


An Angel's Christmas Wish

by FieryAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Mating (Supernatural), Angel Wings, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Crafts, Dean-cave | Fortress of Dean-a-tude (Supernatural), Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, If you pretend 14x09 never happened, Jack Kline's First Christmas, Love Confessions, M/M, Nesting Castiel, Possessive Castiel, Rimming, Top Castiel, Winged Castiel, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryAngel/pseuds/FieryAngel
Summary: It's Jack's second Christmas in the bunker, but Team Free Will 2.0's first time really celebrating the holidays. With the AU hunters out there to keep things under control, the boys decide to indulge in the holiday season for once. Sam and Jack have gone Christmas shopping, and Dean and Cas are trimming the tree.  Everything is going great, until Dean asks Cas what his best buddy wants for Christmas.A short story in three parts. One chapter now, one on Christmas Eve, and one on Christmas Day.





	1. The Little Tree Topper

**Author's Note:**

> Pretend the mid-season finale never happened. I swear it existed purely to ruin this for me.

It was the week before Christmas, and Dean sat at the map table up to his elbows in soft, multihued feathers, at a total loss. The door to the bunker opened and closed with a loud creak and slam followed by the sound of a single pair of feet descending the steps, the footfalls echoing through the airy bunker. Dean smiled softly to himself, knowing it could only be Castiel because Sam and Jack were out together.

“Hey Cas, what color are your wings, buddy?” Dean asked, not needing to look up, as he used a hot glue gun to attach a tiny blue tie he’d fashioned out of ribbon to the angel he was making for the top of the Christmas tree. 

“Hello Dean. What are you doing?” Cas asked curiously, rather than answering the question that had been posed to him.

“Jack hasn’t really had a Christmas yet,” Dean said with a smile and a gesture toward the rather large, slightly lopsided Douglas Fir he'd dragged down the stairs and now stood near the stairway, its branches falling and awaiting decoration. “We don’t usually have time to even think about Christmas, let alone celebrate, but since we got all these new hunters out there putting out fires, and we got the kid back,” he trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. We kind of feel like a real family lately, you know? Maybe we should start a holiday tradition before it all goes to shit again.”

Cas dropped into the seat next to Dean, his eyes drifting to the huge pile of feathers Dean had purchased at the local craft store. His long, elegant fingers dug into the pile, absently stroking the soft plumage. He looked at the little doll in Dean’s hands, noting the itty bitty tan trench coat, mop of brown hair made from yarn and the slate blue buttons, sewn on with care in the place of eyes. “Why are you making a tiny replica of me, Dean?”

“We needed an angel for the top of the tree. None of the ones at Target were right, and a star just wouldn’t cut it, ya know? You _are_ my favorite angel, buddy. The rest’re dicks. So, what color are your wings?” He asked again.

Cas ignored the question again, choosing to sift through the colorful feathers instead. He plucked some black and some blue from the assortment, starting another pile away from the original one. “None of these are like mine,” he said with a sigh. “My wings are mostly black, like this, but alive, and they taper into a dark blue at the tips. Not this blue though, more… indigo. And there are flecks of black on the blue parts. These are dead feathers, so they aren't glossy. They're not right, but I suppose they’ll have to do.” He pushed the black and bright blue feathers toward Dean who was watching him with raised eyebrows, his mouth slightly agape.

“So, they’re not white and fluffy?” Dean asked after he cleared his throat and shook the image of Cas' wings free from his vivid imagination.

Cas shot him an annoyed look. “No, Dean. I don’t have a harp, and my wings are not white and fluffy. Nor do I spend my days sitting on a cloud, in case you were wondering.”

Dean chuckled at his angel’s sass and picked up a blue feather, sandwiching it between two black ones, overlapping so only a bit of the blue showed at the tip. He held it up and tilted his head in question at Cas, who shrugged in response. Dean took it as approval and hot glued the feathers together. He picked up a Sharpie and added little black dots to the tips and held it up again.

“Close enough,” Cas said as he continued to gather the proper feathers for Dean, who continued his work. They sat like that in comfortable silence, Cas sorting, Dean gluing. When there was a sufficient pile of finished feathers, Cas began to arrange and glue them into the proper wing shape.

“Cas, buddy, I could have done that. I’ve seen the shadows. I know what they look like.”

Cas sighed audibly and dropped the half finished wing in front of Dean before pushing away from the table. He walked over to the tree and tried to manually straighten it out before using a bit of angel mojo to get the stiff branches to finish falling into place after having been bound tightly in netting at the tree lot. “How do I put the lights on, _buddy?_ ” he asked, a harsh bite to his words, as he started to remove the brand new light strands from their boxes. 

Dean flinched at Cas’ completely out of character use of a moniker besides his own name, standing to help. “Here, I’ll show you.” Dean took a strand of lights from Cas, his fingers lightly brushing the angel’s, and started weaving them through the branches. “Start at the bottom, wrapping the branches like this and go upwards in a spiral. You want to make sure you get them inside the tree too. The more lights, the better. I bought plenty. When you get to the end, plug in the next strand and keep going. Got it, pal?”

Cas scowled at Dean, then nodded, taking the light strand back from him. They worked in tense silence, Cas arranging the lights while Dean finished his little tree topper. Dean was just getting ready to open the boxes of ornaments when Sam and Jack came back from their Christmas shopping excursion, arms loaded down with bags and pizza boxes.

“Good, you’re back! Me and Cas did all the hard work, get your asses in here and trim the tree!” Dean called.

“Later. We brought pizza. We’re gonna go wrap this stuff so you don’t peek,” Sam said, setting one of the pizzas on the map table for Dean before disappearing with Jack down the hall with their packages.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned dramatically as he realized Christmas was only a few days away and he’d yet to buy a single present. “Hey Cas, what do you want for Christmas, buddy?”

“I require nothing, Dean,” Cas answered, a little more sass in his voice than usual.

“Come on, buddy, there has to be something you want. You don’t have to ‘require’ something to want it. A new tie? How about a different coat? Maybe something in black… or leather,” Dean bit his lip as he imagined Cas in a leather jacket and jeans. What a sight that would be. “Something for your new truck?”

“What I want cannot be wrapped and placed under the tree,” Cas said sadly as he began to place ornaments on the branches. Dean had bought color coordinating ornaments in a scheme of blue, green and silver and Cas had to admit, they looked striking with the white lights reflecting off the glittered patterns and metallic finishes.

Dean stepped beside Cas and started to thread hooks into the ornament loops so all Cas would have to do was take them and place them on the tree. He nudged Cas’ shoulder with his own, playfully as he handed him a translucent glass ball. “Anything you want Cas. Come on, you’re my best friend. Tell me what you want, and if it's in my power to give it to you, I’ll make it happen.”

Cas swallowed nervously, his eyes shut tight and his hands stilled inches from where he was about to hang the glass ball. He could feel his skin buzzing where Dean’s shoulder had brushed his and it was maddening. “Anything?” It was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, Cas. Anything you want, buddy.”

Cas’ eyes flew open and he rounded on Dean. He was just inches from the other man when he spat out, “Stop calling me ‘buddy.’”

Dean’s face contorted in confusion and he frowned, a little furrow forming between his brows. “Wh-what? Why? I’ve always called you ‘buddy,’” he spat defensively.

“I don’t want to be called ‘buddy’ or ‘pal,’ and while we’re at it, I’m not your brother,” Cas snarled, his patience dangerously teetering on the edge.

“Cas, how many times do I have to tell you, you _are_ my brother. You’re family,” Dean said softly, reaching out to lay a hand on Cas' shoulder.

Cas growled in frustration and threw his hands in the air, effectively flinging Dean's hand away. “You said ‘anything.’”

“I-I don’t understand, Cas. Help me out here, buddy, shit, sorry. It’s habit,” Dean ran his hand through his hair, nervously. “Spell it out for me, man. What are you asking for?”

“Stop friend-zoning me,” Cas said quietly, eyes dropping to study the floor timidly as his cheeks warmed and burned bright pink.

“Stop… wait, where did you learn that phrase? Do you even know what you’re asking for?” Dean’s heart began to thunder against his ribcage as hope started to swell inside him. Was it possible that Cas wanted him the same way he wanted Cas?

“Claire taught it to me over the phone when I was talking about you one night. I told her that you’re always calling me ‘pal’ and ‘buddy’ and telling me that I’m your best friend and your brother, and she said that you’re ‘friend-zoning’ me.” Cas threw up finger quotes for emphasis as he ranted, pacing around the room irritably, the tree all but forgotten.

“Cas, in order to be the friend zone-ee, you have to want to be more than friends with the friend zone-er. But, you don’t… do you?” Dean asked, his heart continuing to thump wildly in his chest at the thought of Cas wanting him romantically. He’d been in love with Cas as long as he could remember. Hell, he'd been painfully attracted to him since the second he'd laid eyes on the angel, but he never thought Cas wanted him back. Shit, what if Cas didn’t realize what he was saying and Dean was getting his hopes up for nothing?

“Dean, you asked me what I wanted for Christmas,” Cas said carefully as he stopped his frantic pacing, his eyes finally rising to meet Dean’s.

Dean nodded, optimism blooming in his chest as he saw the adoration shining in Cas’ eyes. “Yeah, Cas. Anything you want.”

“I want you, Dean. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted for myself. Not as a friend. Sam is my friend, and I don’t feel this way for him. And not as a brother. I had thousands of brothers. I don’t need another. I want a lover, Dean, and you’re the only person that will do because you are the only person I have ever loved like this. So, for Christmas, I want you. If I can’t have you, I understand, but at the very least, cease with the nicknames.” 

“Cas, I…”

“No,” Cas said, cutting him off. “It’s not Christmas yet. Wait until then.”

Dean watched as Cas retreated from the room in a flurry of swishing trench coat, leaving him to decorate the tree alone and contemplate the best way to wrap himself up for Cas.


	2. Twas the Night Before Christmas

The bunker was full of life and color. The tree had finally been trimmed with Sam and Jack’s help and lush garland had been wrapped around the staircase railing. The lights twinkled and a cinnamon and clove scented candle burned brightly on the map table, the spicy scent of it warming the room as it invoked the holiday. 

Jack stared with wide-eyed wonder at the glittering tree, a soft smile gracing his innocent features. Mary and Bobby had come back from Donna’s cabin to spend Christmas with the family. They sat together in the library speaking in hushed tones with their shoulders pressed together, basking in the newness of their still developing relationship. Sam was busy snacking from a tray of hot appetizers, indulging in the rich foods he always denied himself throughout the year. And Dean and Cas… well, Dean and Cas sat on opposite sides of the war room, tension hanging thick between them as it seemed to do anytime they were near each other in the past few days. 

Cas had spent most of the week following their little squabble hiding in his bedroom, feigning tiredness. Dean simply shrugged the excuse off rather than being a smart ass and pointing out that Cas didn’t even sleep, let alone get tired from simply lounging around the bunker all day. No use ruffling the angel’s feathers when something so potentially life-altering was hanging over them.

The week had passed slowly as Dean agonized over how to confess his feelings to Cas, and now it was finally Christmas Eve. The hot chocolate and spiked eggnog were flowing freely, Christmas carols playing softly in the background, and conversation and laughter filled their humble adobe, but Dean could hardly think straight long enough to make merry. 

He wanted more than anything to give Cas exactly what he wanted. There was no way he would deny his angel anything, but on Christmas morning, with the whole family there to witness it? The very thought of it made Dean’s palms damp with nervous sweat, but Cas was sitting there in the corner, shoulders slumped, trying to look stoic, but instead, coming off as nothing short of miserable. The very thought of Cas' unhappiness made Dean’s stomach twist anxiously. Dean thought, that if given the chance, he would gather Cas up in his arms and kiss him in front of everyone if it would just put a smile on the angel’s face. 

“It’s almost midnight. Santa won’t come if you’re not in bed, Jack,” Sam said, snapping Dean out of his own thoughts for a second. 

“You can’t possibly think Jack believes in…” Dean started.

“Dean!” Cas snapped, suddenly alert and shaking his head in warning.

Sometimes it was easy to forget Jack was only a year and a half old, considering he went from birth to being a walking, talking grown man in mere minutes. But, grown or not, Jack was full of innocence and wonder. He was appreciative of the little things in life, like a good burger or an afternoon spent fishing. And seeing as they hunted down supernatural beings on the daily, he supposed Santa Claus shouldn’t even raise an eyebrow. 

“Uh, Yeah. Off to bed, Jack!” Dean said weakly, hoping he’d covered his flub sufficiently.

Jack beamed and said goodnight to everyone, heading off to bed to ensure his share of presents in the morning. Dean smiled and gave himself a mental pat on the back. As fucked as the world was, the three of them were doing a damn fine job of raising that boy. Dean wondered if the dynamic would change if he and Cas were to become a couple. Would they be considered Jack’s “dads” while Sam took on more of an “uncle” role? He sighed and swiped a hand nervously over his face and hazarded a glance at Cas who averted his eyes when he saw Dean looking at him. Dean sighed. He was getting ahead of himself.

“I think I’ll turn in as well,” Cas said, pushing himself out of the armchair he was sitting in.

Dean’s stomach swooped nervously as he watched Cas walk out of the room. Once they all went to bed and fell asleep, morning would be here before Dean knew it. What then? What was he going to do? He popped a lukewarm bacon-wrapped scallop in his mouth and joined in on the conversation as jovially as he could manage. Before long, everyone else had wandered off to bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. As midnight came and went, Dean finally threw in the towel, pulling all the presents out of their hiding spots and stacking them neatly under the tree before heading down the hall to his own bedroom, Santa Claus duties fulfilled.

As he passed Cas’ closed door, he paused, hearing music playing softly in the room. Cas, of course, didn’t sleep, but he often retreated to his room at night to read or pass the time otherwise. He’d become a fixture, a part of the family, and the bunker was his home now. Dean leaned in close enough to press his ear to the door, smiling like a sap when he recognized the music as one of the Led Zeppelin songs from the mixtape he’d given Cas so long ago. He hadn’t even realized Cas had managed to hang onto the tape even through death and resurrection, but the proof was in the unmistakeable opening bars of “Stairway to Heaven.”

Before Dean could think better of it, he was knocking softly on the door. He heard shuffling before the music cut off suddenly, then the sound of nearing footsteps before the door was cracked open all of an inch and a single blue eye peered out at him, skeptically.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said bashfully.

“Hello, Dean. Do you need something?” Cas replied without opening the door any further. 

“I… Um… Well, it’s technically Christmas morning,” Dean said, nervously running a hair through his hair. 

“Ok?” a dark eyebrow arched up in question over Cas’ too-blue eye, but still, the door remained in place.

“Can I maybe come in?” Dean asked, irritation edging into his voice now.

“It’s not a good time,” Cas stated, pushing the door even more shut than it had been a second before. 

Dean huffed impatiently as Cas all bout disappeared from view. “Look, Cas, bud…. shit, sorry. Cas, you wanted something from me, right? I’m here now. Please, let me in.”

Cas said nothing for a few seconds, then sighed, swinging the door open and holding his arms out in defeat. 

Dean gasped as he took in the sight before him. Cas was bare-chested, his jackets and shirt discarded neatly over a chair, but even though all that tanned skin was stretched out in front of him, it’s not what had Dean’s breath catching and heart racing. Spread out behind Cas was the biggest set of wings Dean had ever seen. They were here, on the earthly plane in all of their corporeal glory, and they blew their shadowy counterparts right out of the sky. Primary feathers almost as long as Cas was tall brushed the floor, their speckled blue tips gleaming as they caught the light. There was an ethereal iridescence to them, even the glossy black would shine with color when the light hit it just right, and the overall effect was simply breathtaking.

“Cas,” Dean breathed out, his fingers twitching as he longed to reach out and touch the feathers, aching to find out if they were as silky and soft as they looked. 

“You weren’t meant to see me like this,” Cas said, looking down to avoid Dean’s eyes, his cheeks tinged slightly pink in embarrassment and hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. His wings trembled a bit as they folded in on themselves in an attempt to make them seem smaller, and it broke Dean’s heart to think Cas could possibly be ashamed of them.

“I don’t think I did you justice when I made that tree topper,” Dean said reverently as he inched closer to the nervous angel. 

The tension seemed to melt away from Cas’ wings a bit as they relaxed, spreading out a bit again. His fists loosened, and he took a deep breath as he felt Dean watching him.

Dean was staring. He knew he was, but he couldn’t care less. His eyes traveled from wingtip to wingtip, pausing in between to linger a moment over Cas’ strong, broad shoulders, toned chest and firm, flat tummy. Cas’ pants were slung low on his hips, giving Dean an eyeful of the most enticing pelvic vee he’d ever seen. He was overcome with just how much he wanted Cas as he noted the sparse happy trail that started under Cas’ navel and disappeared behind the waistband of his dress pants.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful Cas,” Dean murmured, just barely above a whisper. 

Cas’ head snapped up then, his eyes wonderfully wide and glassy as they bore into Dean’s. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Dean smiled, reaching out to grasp Cas’ hand in his own. Slowly, methodically, he laced their fingers together, bringing them to his lips and brushing a kiss over Cas’ knuckles. When he looked up, Cas was blinking rapidly back at him in disbelief.

“Always have,” Dean admitted, his lips quirking up in a sideways smirk. “Even when you walked into that barn ten years ago, terrifying as fuck and wearing rumpled clothes that were two sizes too big, you were beautiful.”

Dean gave Cas’ hand a tug urging him to step closer. Cas folded his wings neatly and tucked them tightly behind himself, and he lowered his free hand to rest on Dean’s chest. “Is this ok?” Cas asked, his eyes never leaving Dean’s.

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean moved further into Castiel’s space, reaching out to ghost his fingertips over the high arch of one wing. “Is this ok?”

Cas shivered under the touch, his eyes slipping shut at the sensation as a tiny whimper escaped him, unbidden. It was all he could do to simply nod his consent. Dean ran his hand over the wing, applying more pressure this time, and watching in awe as the soft, downy feathers fluffed up in his wake. The wings were a sight to behold, but Dean couldn’t seem to look away from the angel’s face, relying on his sense of touch to learn the shape the feathered appendages. Cas was truly beautiful standing there in the soft light cast by a single lamp, cheeks flushed and eyes closed, lashes delicately fanning out over insanely high cheekbones. His plump lips were parted only slightly, the bottom lip damp and catching the light enticingly, and Dean was overwhelmed with the need to kiss him.

Cas’ eyes opened just as Dean was leaning in to indulge that need, and he backed up a step, leaving Dean chasing after his lips. “Wait, Dean.”

“Cas, I…”

“Dean,” Cas said, cutting the other man off. “Am I correct in assuming that you’ve come here to give yourself to me tonight?”

Dean reached out, grabbing Cas’ hand and clasping it tightly as he brought it up to press against his chest, not caring for a single second that Cas would feel the rapid beating of his heart. “Yeah, Cas.”

Cas nodded, his face splitting wide in one of those uncharacteristic smiles that had been gracing his features lately. “Ok, but first, I have something for you.”

Dean watched as Cas turned away from him and walked toward his unused bed. He bent and scooped up an armful of loose feathers. He thrust the whole armful at Dean, and Dean took them, looking at Cas like he’d just lost his mind. “Feathers? Uh, thanks Cas.”

“The feathers aren’t the gift, Dean. Just hold them for a minute.” Cas said impatiently as he retrieved his shirt. As Dean watched, the wings vanished, hiding themselves away wherever they disappeared to when Cas was on Earth. Then, much to Dean’s dismay, Cas pulled the shirt on and began buttoning it, hiding away all that glorious bare skin as he began to speak again. “I was grooming my wings when you knocked. I’ve been doing that more often lately in preparation. Just in case…” he trailed off, his cheeks coloring a bit as he averted his eyes timidly.

Dean chuckled. “This some sort of mating ritual, Cas?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Cas scowled at Dean, tempted to simply shove him from his room, but he didn’t want to lose Dean before he’d had him. “Maybe it is,” he said with a shrug. “I am not human, Dean. It would do you well to remember that before you give yourself to me. Some things I do may not seem normal to you, but they’re instinctual for me. ”

Dean swallowed thickly, something about imagining Cas’ animalistic side sending a rush of lust through his body. “Yeah, Cas. Trust me, I know. The fifteen foot wingspan was a stark reminder, buddy.”

Cas rushed forward, backing Dean up against the wall and caging him in with his arms. “Don’t call me that,” he growled, eyebrow raised in challenge and chest heaving and pressed firmly to Dean’s.

Dean blinked back at Cas in awe, his need to kiss the angel stupid now a raging, nagging necessity. “Cas, I’m gonna need you to show me whatever it is you have for me, and soon, because I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t think I can keep my hands to myself much longer.”

Cas’ eyes flicked from the darkened green of Dean’s down to his lips, and he licked his own, completely aware that Dean was tracking the movement of his tongue. He longed to lean in and close the final few inches that separated them and finally kiss Dean after a decade of wanting him, but not here. That wasn’t his plan.

“Ok,” Cas said softly. “Follow me.”


	3. Christmas in the Fortress of Deanitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see what Cas has really been up to all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! The first couple chapters were between 1800ish and 2300ish words, and this one, well, got away from me as the smut tends to do. It’s longer than the first two combined. By a lot. Oops? Then of course, because life happens, my wi-fi kept crapping out. So… Merry day after the day after Christmas!

Dean followed Cas deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine corridors that made up the bunker, a strange mixture of nervousness and arousal swirling inside him. Finally, they’d reached their destination, and Dean found himself standing outside of the room he hadn’t seen the inside of in over half a year, not since…

“I know you’ve been avoiding this place,” Cas said softly, turning on the spot to look at Dean, his arms full of the feathers he’d taken back from Dean before they’d started their journey.

“Haven’t been back since I smashed my beautiful new TV,” Dean said with a pout. “I guess it was a noble sacrifice for the chance to hang out with the Scooby Gang.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You only cared about Daphne,” he accused.

Dean smirked and averted his eyes. “Only ’til you got there.” He shrugged and took Cas’ hand in his, making eye contact with Cas to make sure he understood how serious he was. “She was a silly childhood crush, an unattainable fantasy like Gunnar Lawless or Dr. Sexy. Besides, her curves are much less impressive when you’re starkly reminded that she’s 2-D.”

“And if she were here now?” Cas prompted.

“I’d tell her to go find Fred,” Dean said with a laugh. “Now come on. What did you bring me here to show me?”

Cas stepped aside and nudged Dean toward the ‘Dean Cave.’ The term didn't really fit. The room hadn’t been only Dean’s since he and Cas had begun to escape there to watch movies together, shoulders brushing, laptop teetering between them on the arms of the musty old chairs they’d dragged in there together one weekend. 

Every time Dean got a new addition for the room, like a bookcase, or the foosball table, Cas would be there to help him do the heavy lifting and rearranging. They’d gone to yard sales together, picking up albums and artwork, and Dean always asked Cas for his opinion before he hung anything. Together, they had hung the keg lights Dean had handcrafted himself over the course of two days. 

It had taken a while to invite Sam into the space, having taken the catalyst of a big screen TV to push Dean to do finally show the space off. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of the room before the addition of the TV, it’s just that he’d come to think of it as his and Cas’ place. It was someplace to go and escape for a while and be close to his best friend after having lost him to death and gotten him back again. Every time they shut themselves away in here, Dean told himself he’d tell Cas everything. 

He had wanted to tell Cas how he felt about him and how much it scared him to care so much about someone. He wanted to tell Cas how losing him had almost killed him, how he’d wanted to die himself, how he’d lost faith in everything the day he watched Cas’ grace flame out as his lifeless body dropped to the ground. But every time he got close to admitting his feelings, his throat would go dry and he’d lose the courage it required to actually talk about his feelings. Now here they were, on the precipice of something huge, and all it took was Cas speaking up first.

Maybe it was a Christmas miracle.

Cas was beaming at Dean as he broke out of his train of thought. “I know how badly you wanted that television, Dean.” Cas gestured toward the doorway to urge Dean to go ahead of him. There was only a single lamp on in the room, but even in the low light Dean couldn’t miss it. He gasped audibly when he saw the big, red bow draped across the screen of the most beautiful TV he’d ever seen. 

“There’s a BluRay player as well. And this one isn’t haunted,” Cas said tentatively as he watched Dean move closer to the TV and waited for him to say something. 

“Why?” Dean breathed out, as his fingers grazed the bow in wonder. 

“You deserve it,” Cas said simply. “And it will be much more pleasant to watch movies on a 65 inch television than on a 15 inch laptop, so I can’t say I did it _all_ for you.”

Dean looked over and smiled at the self satisfied smirk on Cas’ face before he carefully removed the bow and dropped it to the floor. He wanted to see the TV in action and started to look around a little for the remote. Cas stepped next to him and pressed it into his hand with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Dean turned the television on and Cas watched shadows and flickering light pass over his features.

“This is too much, Cas.”

“It was rather expensive, but it’s not like we use our own credit cards anyway,” Cas chuckled. 

“You got me there,” Dean said, with a shrug. He flipped through a few channels, a bit surprised that the angel was able to get all the cable wires hooked up correctly. He landed on one of the classic rock music channels and left it there, the sounds of Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain” filling the space around them. 

“Guns N’ Roses is now considered classic rock,” he said offhandedly with a huff of disbelieving laughter. “I guess I’m officially old.”

“You still look like the man I pulled out of hell and rebuilt ten years ago,” Cas said softly, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Dean’s eyes met Cas’ and he smiled back softly. “You flatter me Cas, but we both know you’re lying.”

“You’ll always be beautiful to me, Dean. Do you like it?” Cas asked, nodding towards the TV.

Dean turned to him and flashed his thousand watt smile, and before he could stop to think, “I like _you,_ ” slipped out. Cas’ smile tripled in kind as Dean stepped closer and laced their fingers together. “So, can I give you my gift now? Because I’m kind of dying over here.”

Cas squeezed his hand. “In a bit. I’m not quite done yet.” 

Dean practically whined when Cas pulled away again, but within seconds, Cas had flipped a light switch and suddenly, it became evident that Cas hadn’t been sulking in his room all week. Fairy lights were wrapped around everything from the bookcases to the keg lights that hung from the ceiling. The room sparkled romantically, and as girly as it was, Dean was a little choked up by the gesture. The room had been rearranged to allow space for a mattress covered in a mix of blankets, pillows and feathers that made up what could only be described as a nest in the corner of the room.

“What is all this?” Dean asked, in awe.

“Just in case,” Cas said with a shrug as he stared at the floor, anxiously. “You asked me if the feathers were a mating ritual. They were for our nest. I’ve been collecting them all week. It probably seems odd to you. We don’t have to stay. I just… I had to. It was biological instinct. This is angels do we do when we find someone we want to…”

“Cas, you’re rambling,” Dean said, cutting the nervous angel off. “This is perfect. The nest is a little different, but so are you. You’re different in the best way.”

Cas stepped a little closer and took Dean’s hand in his own loosely. His thumb rubbed soothingly across Dean’s knuckles as his free hand came up to cup Dean’s cheek.

“I love you,” the words fell from Dean’s lips without his permission, and much to his surprise, they didn’t feel as foreign as he’d expected them to. It wasn’t how he’d wanted to confess his feelings, but it felt more than right when Cas’ face lit up like their Christmas tree.

“Dean. So help me if you add, ‘you’re family,’ to the end of that statement,” Cas warned, teasingly.

Dean shook his head and squeezed Cas’ hand. “Says the man who said, ‘I love you. I love all of you,’ on his deathbed,” he said with a smirk. “Talk about your mixed signals.”

“Dean…” 

“It’s ok Cas. I’m done lying to myself about this. I tried not to, you know, fall in love with you. I lose everyone I care about, even you a few times. But fuck, you just keep coming back and I can’t help but let myself hope it’s for good this time.”

“I will always find my way back to you. I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” Cas murmured, his fingers slipping away from Dean’s hand to tease the hair at the base of his neck.

Dean slid a hand up Cas’ arm, over his shoulder, then around his neck to bury itself in the hair at the base of his skull. The angel’s blue eyes were wide, searching his, and the overwhelming need to touch and kiss and just _take_ hit Dean like a freight train. “I’d really like to kiss you,” he whispered, afraid his full voice would crack.

“Please,” Cas said just as softly before surging forward and stealing the kiss from Dean before he had time to blink.

Pressed together, hands exploring, they kissed their last first kiss, both knowing this was it, the point of no return. They belonged to each other from this moment on. Their lips parted, breath mingling as the kiss deepened and as their tongues brushed together the keg lights overhead flickered.

“So, uh… As an angel, do you get, you know, horny? You looked like you were going to hurl when I brought you to that brothel, and the only time you had sex, you were human.”

The smile that broke out on Cas’ face could have powered a thousand suns, then came a laugh melodic enough to make Dean’s heart sing. “Dean, what else do you remember about the night you took me to the brothel?”

“I, uh… I remember saying something about not letting you die a virgin.”

Cas nodded. “You also said Bert and Ernie are gay right before that. Do you remember how I followed you out of that room without hesitation, only to lose all my nerve when you sent me away with that girl?”

Dean chuckled when he put it all together. “You thought I was going to take your virginity?”

“That’s why I didn’t think twice about going with you. I wanted you to have it. I’d like you to have it now. I’ve never had sex as an angel, or with a man, so you can take two very big firsts from me.”

Dean frowned regretfully. “I wish I had a first to give you, Cas. There’s not much I haven’t done.”

Cas cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “Have you ever had sex with someone you’re in love with?”

Dean thought about it for a few seconds. There was Cassie, but that was young love, more fire and sexual chemistry than long term compatibility. He had thought he loved Lisa, but it had never felt like this with her. In the end, he cared about her, loved her even, but wasn’t _in love_ with her. No, he was more in love with the idea of her. Family, house, kids, regular 9-5 job. The things he’d idealized in his mind. The apple pie life that he’d simply inherited by fulfilling his dead brother’s wish.

“No Cas, I must have been saving that one for you,” Dean said before he kissed Cas again, savoring the taste of him and the feel of the angel’s soft lips yielding beneath his own. “I hope this is something you can enjoy the way you did when you were human. I know things are dulled for you now.”

Cas took Dean’s hand and pressed the palm to the hard budge in his pants. “Does this feel like I’m not enjoying everything we’ve done so far?”

“Fuck,” Dean breathed out, the feel of the rock hard erection and Cas’ utter boldness taking his breath way. “We’ve barely touched each other, Cas.”

The angel smirked started to unbutton his shirt. “Would you be amenable to remedying that?”

Dean nodded and watched as Cas’ nimble fingers popped open button after button, revealing all that tight tanned skin he’d been missing since Cas had covered it back up. As the last button was popped, Dean made his limbs work again and he reached up to push the shirt off of Cas’ shoulders so it could fall haphazardly to the floor.

Dean explored slowly and Cas just let him drink his fill with his eyes and hands. Dean’s hands slid over his ribcage with the faintest brush of fingertips, the lightest flick of thumbs over hard, dusky nipples, and Cas nibbled on his bottom lip to stifle the moans that threatened to work their way free from his throat. 

“You have me at a disadvantage,” Cas said, drawing Dean’s attention back to his eyes. He tugged at the hem of Dean’s henley and raised an eyebrow. “May I?”

“Please,” Dean whispered, raising his arms so Cas could pull the shirt over his head and discard it. Soft, warm lips were pressed to his collarbone as quickly as it was bared, leaving a wet line of open mouthed kisses along it before moving higher to kiss the sensitive spot behind his ear that made Dean’s toes curl. “God, Cas, how…” The question died on his lips as Cas began to suck lightly.

Cas pulled away and smirked at Dean, his gaze so intense, Dean felt his cock twitch where it was still confined in his jeans. “I know all of your sweet spots, Dean. I built this body with my own two hands. I know it better than I know my own.” He emphasized his words with the slow slide of his hands over Dean’s abdomen and chest.

“Now who’s at a disadvantage?” Dean chuckled. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find your way around soon enough,” Cas teased, leaning in to suck on Dean’s neck once more.

“I’d like to start now,” Dean said, pushing Cas away from him and grasping the angel by his hips to lead him toward the nest sitting clear across the room. When the backs of Cas’ calves hit the mattress, Dean’s hands moved to Cas’ belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops and tossing it aside with practiced ease. The button and zipper came next and he pushed Cas’ dress pants to the floor as Cas toed his way out of his shoes and socks, kicking the whole mess of tangled clothing away. Dean’s tongue snaked out to wet his lips as he took in the very obvious erection straining against the fabric of Cas’ very modest boxer shorts. 

“Tell me what feels good,” Dean said as his thumbs traced the deep groove of Cas’ pelvic vee from waistband to jutting hipbones. 

“Everything you do feels good, Dean. Just touch me,” Cas urged.

Dean nudged Cas until the angel sat on the edge of the mattress and looked up at him so trustingly, he ached from it. As Cas watched with a heated gaze, Dean stripped down to his boxer briefs, leaving the clothes wherever they happened to fall before returning his full attention to Cas. 

“Lay back, baby,” he urged and Cas scooted back on the bed and laid down, arms up, reaching for Dean. “God, Cas, you look perfect surrounded by all those feathers.” 

He took Cas’ offered hands and let himself be tugged down to land on top of Cas. Dean pressed his lips to the underside of Cas’ jaw and Cas tilted his head to grant him better access. He kissed and sucked the spot under Cas’ ear, leaving a blotchy purple mark behind only to watch it disappear as Cas involuntarily healed himself. Cas was writhing beneath him, the low keening sounds he was making right next to Dean’s ear sent violent shivers running through him. Dean gasped as Cas lifted his hips off the bed, rolling them until their hard lengths met in a filthy grind.

“Fuck, Cas. This more of that ‘instinct’ you were talking about?” 

Cas chuckled and rolled his hips again, drawing a groan from Dean as he met the roll with one of his own. “Perhaps,” Cas teased, his hands running down Dean’s back and moving to cup his asscheeks and pull his hips more tightly against his own. “But remember, I have existed for longer than your human mind can fathom. There is very little about human sexuality that I haven’t witnessed at some point in my very long life, and I’m eager to put some of what I’ve learned to good use.”

Dean growled and dove in for a kiss, nipping at Cas’ bottom lip, taking advantage of Cas’ startled gasp to dip his tongue inside for a taste. The kiss heated fast as Cas threw himself into it, matching Dean in his intensity by sucking on the tip of his tongue and moaning into the kiss as his hands squeezed handfuls of Dean’s ass.

“Take these off,” Cas growled, shoving his thumbs into the waistband of Dean’s boxer briefs and shoving them past Dean’s ass. 

Dean pushed himself to his knees, following Cas’ order and discarding the offending garment in no time before hooking his fingers into Cas’ waistband and tugging his boxers off as well. For a stilted moment, they simply stared, taking in the sights before them.

“Fuck Cas,” Dean murmured in reverence as his hands slipped up Cas’ firm, thick thighs. He shuffled backwards on his knees just far enough to maneuver into the perfect position to place kisses along Cas’ inner thighs, which parted the instant Dean’s mouth found skin. Cas began to writhe as Dean traveled higher, kissing his way toward Cas’ aching cock. Finally, Dean wrapped a hand around the base and glanced up at Cas from under his lashes. He smirked at Cas when their eyes met and leaned in close, licking Cas’ cock from base to tip before drawing the head between his lips and sucking.

Cas bit his bottom lip to stifle a moan as Dean’s tongue flicked at the sensitive little spot under the head of his cock, and one of his hands buried itself in Dean’s hair. He simply rested it there as Dean began to take him in further, stopping only when Cas’ cock head hit the back of his throat. Dean swallowed around Cas before drawing off and repeating the motion, bobbing up and down while Cas tried with everything he had not to hold Dean’s head still and thrust his hips, choking Dean in the process.

“Dean,” Cas practically purred the name. “Oh, Dean, your mouth feels so good.”

Dean moaned around him, the vibrations amping up Cas’ arousal and his hips lifted off the bed causing his cock to slide further into Dean’s throat. Cas tried to pull back when he realized what he’d done, but Dean just took him deeper and moaned louder, Cas’ unintentional force causing his own leaking cock to twitch where it hung hard and heavy between his thighs.

“You wanna come like this?” Dean asked, pulling off and giving his own cock a couple firm strokes to ease his own arousal.

“No,” Cas said, reaching for Dean.

Dean went easily, settling himself between Cas’ legs once more. They both made little sounds of pleasure as their bare cocks touched for the first time, and as their lips met in another flithy kiss, Dean began to rock against Cas. Saliva and pre-ejaculate eased the slide of skin on skin, and they found a slow rhythm with their hips that left them gasping as little sparks of pleasure shot through them.

“Like this?” Dean asked.

Cas shook his head in answer, but didn’t cease rolling his hips against Dean, opting to kiss Dean again instead. 

“Then how Cas? Anything you want,” Dean prompted, maintaining the slow rhythm as Cas press sucking kisses to every patch of his skin he could reach.

“I want to have penetrative intercourse with you, Dean,” Cas said, almost shyly, his kisses stopping.

Dean stilled on top of the angel and smiled down at him. Cas had averted his eyes and a nervous blush was coloring his cheeks. “Look at me, Cas,” Dean urged, and Cas’ eyes met his cautiously. “We can definitely do that. I said anything you want, Cas, and I meant it. Don’t be ashamed to ask me for sex, baby,” he said firmly.

Cas beamed up at him, taking his face between his hands and pulling Dean in for another kiss. “I like that nickname. You can use that one.”

“Ok, buddy, I’ll file that away for future reference,” Dean teased.

Cas scowled up at him for a second, before smiling again. “You’re joking,” he said stoically. 

“Yeah, baby, I am,” Dean kissed him softly, a hand slipping into Cas’ hair as they opened to each other again, tongues brushing and hips grinding together lazily, neither of them in a hurry to race towards completion.

“How would you like me, Dean?” Cas practically purred as their kiss broke.

“I thought I was your gift?” Dean said, closing the distance between them to steal a quick kiss. “You tell me.” 

Cas’ eyes darkened, and he rolled their bodies, flipping Dean onto his back and settling between his thighs. Dean gasped in surprise then arched his back, grinding his hips into Cas’ filthily. 

“Would you be receptive to having me inside you?” Cas asked, his voice low and smokey in a way that made Dean bite back a whimper.

“Fuck, yeah, Cas,” Dean whimpered, as Cas’ hands wrapped around his wrists and pressed his hands into the mattress on either side of his head. Cas slid down his body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake, pausing to flick his tongue over one nipple, then the other before continuing his slow slide. 

“I’ve seen this before, and I want to try it.” Cas said as he grasped the backs of Dean’s knees and pushed them up towards Dean’s chest. He placed a kiss on Dean’s inner thigh, then licked him from perineum to the tip of his cock, watching with fascination as the length twitched and leaked pre-cum. “Do you trust me, Dean?”

Cas’ blue eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s, so wide and earnest that Dean didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah Cas. ‘Course I trust you. Anything you want, remember?”

Cas shot Dean another small smile and a nod before his head disappeared from sight and a warm, wet tongue buried itself somewhere no one else had ever buried their tongue. Dean groaned as Cas’ tongue slowly circled his rim in a gentle press, grinning over the fact that he had another first to give to Cas. Cas wiped that grin from his face as his tongue stiffened and pressed just slightly past his rim, licking and probing and making Dean feel like his body was simply _melting_ as he relaxed into the sensations.

Dean was writhing and making the sweetest little whimpering noises as Cas swirled his tongue around his relaxing hole. Cas palmed his asscheeks, spreading him and holding him still so he could press a sucking kiss to Dean’s opening, and as Dean’s hand found its way to his neglected, aching cock, Cas released him and sat back on his heels before swatting the hand away.

“Mine,” he growled and Dean looked up at him with wide-eyed lust. 

“Possessive, much, Cas?” Dean teased weakly.

“Very,” Cas said, right before he took Dean’s cock in hand squeezing around the base and flicking his tongue under the head a few times to draw a deep, broken moan from deep in Dean’s chest. “Suck,” Cas demanded, pressing two fingers of his free hand to Dean’s lips. When Dean obliged, he was rewarded by Cas taking the tip of his cock between his lips and sucking, the tip of his tongue running back and forth along the sensitive frenulum. 

The noises Dean was making were getting to Cas, and he released Dean’s dick from his grasp so he could reach down to take himself in hand. He stroked gently, just enough to ease the pressure, and continued to suck Dean’s dick, bobbing his head and taking as much of his length as he could manage. 

When his fingers were thoroughly drenched in Dean’s saliva, he slipped them free from Dean’s mouth and pressed them to Dean’s opening, massaging circles there while Dean moaned wantonly. Cas could feel how relaxed Dean was getting as he became more and more aroused. Dean was panting, hips writhing in little circles, his ass sliding through the feathers that lined the mattress and running his fingers through his own hair, tugging on the strands in frustration.

“Cas, please,” he begged, gasping as Cas pushed a finger inside him, slipping in easily and pumping in and out a few times before crooking it to seek out and find Dean’s prostate. “Yeah Cas, right there,” he moaned as Cas continued to massage the spot, letting his pleasure build and build with each second that ticked by. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that he could come from the ministrations of Cas’ clever fingers alone.

Cas released Dean’s cock from his mouth, moving back between Dean’s legs to lick at the rim stretched around his finger, wetting it obscenely. Withdrawing one finger, he licked Dean’s rim, circled it, pressed his tongue inside for a moment, then slid two fingers back inside to massage Dean’s prostate again.

Dean whined, pleasure far outweighing any slight sting the stretch caused, and began to rock his hips back on Cas’s hand. The fingers inside him worked expertly, leaving no doubt that Cas hadn’t lied when he’d said he knew all of his sweet spots. Cas’ thumb joined the action pressing into his perineum, and the added sensation had Dean’s back arching off the mattress and his cock leaking, pre-cum pooling in the dip of his navel.

“Dean, do you want to come like this?” Cas teased, echoing Dean’s earlier question back at him.

Dean huffed out the tiniest of chuckles. “I could, Cas, but no. Get the fuck inside me, baby.”

Cas drew his fingers out of Dean’s ass and situated himself between Dean’s legs before leaning down and kissing Dean soundly. When the kiss broke and Dean was blinking up at him in a haze of arousal and emotion, Cas ran his fingers through his hair and focused the softest gaze he could muster on his lover.

“I love you Dean,” Cas said softly, not missing the way his words made tears well up in Dean’s eyes as he averted his gaze to blink them away.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said, words catching in his throat before he cleared it nervously. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, finally moving to meet Cas’ stare once again. “I love you too, Cas. So fucking much. Always will. Don’t let me fuck this up, ok? I can’t lose you again. Wanna be with you forever.”

Cas kissed Dean slow and deep so neither of them had to use words. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of Dean’s speech, even though it had caused about a million butterflies to take flight inside Cas’ chest. He knew Dean. He knew if he fawned over the declaration, Dean would smirk and make a joke, and he knew that even then, Dean meant it. He didn’t say things he didn’t mean. So Cas would take Dean’s commitment and hold it close and move on.

One of Cas’ hands sneaked under the pillow Dean’s head was resting on and came out holding a bottle of lube. Cas sat back on his heels and watched as Dean’s legs fell open wide in invitation. Dean’s cock was rock hard, flushed red and begging for attention where it laid waiting on his belly. His green eyes were dark and hooded, his lips pink and swollen plump from their voracious kisses, freckles obscured by the flush staining his cheeks. Cas had never seen a more glorious sight.

“You’re beautiful Dean,” Cas whispered as he slicked up his cock. 

Dean blushed bright pink at Cas’ compliment and the sight of the angel’s fist moving over his slick cock in slow strokes. Fuck, he was hot. “You too, Angel. Now get inside me before I embarrass myself by begging.”

Cas smirked and arched an eyebrow in defiance. “Maybe I’d prefer for you to beg for my cock,” he teased, circling his hips just enough to have his cock sliding through his fist. He could practically feel Dean’s heated gaze on him, and knew it wouldn’t take much at this point to actually get the man begging for him.

“Fuck, Cas. I never had you pegged for a dirty talker,” Dean said, an attempt at a quip that fell flat due to the lust darkening his voice.

“You’ve never had me pegged at all, Dean, but maybe next time,” he teased, flawlessly using innuendo in a way that had Dean’s pupils dilating so fast, Cas almost mistook him for a demon.

“Cas, if you’re not inside me in 5 seconds, I’m going to push you into this bed and…”

Cas growled and pushed Dean’s legs up and apart, effectively cutting Dean off, his words dying in a startled gasp at Cas’ rough handling. A moan rumbled up from Dean’s chest as the slick, blunt head of Cas’ cock pressed against his hole, then slipped inside with no preamble. Cas didn’t stop surging ahead until he was balls deep inside of his lover, Dean’s hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as he keened.

“I believe I made your deadline?” Cas teased as his hips stilled against Dean’s ass, allowing Dean to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

Dean simply whimpered in reply and pulled Cas down for a kiss, soft and sweet. When they parted, there was a question in Dean’s eyes, and he blushed as if he was ashamed by it. 

“What is it Dean?” Cas asked gently.

“It’s stupid, just fuck me, Cas,” he pleaded.

Cas rolled his hips the tiniest bit, then shook his head. “It’s not stupid, Dean. Never be afraid to ask me for anything. There’s nothing I would deny you.”

Dean bit his lip and averted his eyes. “Will you… could you maybe,” he sighed and let the rest of the question come out in a barely intelligible jumble of words. “canyoubringyourwingsbackout?”

There was a shift in the air, and a loud “whoosh” followed by the soft rustle of feathers and when Dean turned his gaze back to Cas, his wings flanked him, spread out behind him in all their glory. When Dean reached up to touch, Cas allowed them to drop down around them, cocooning them loosely in feathery darkness.

Cas began to move as Dean clutched a handful of feathers in one hand and placed the other on Cas' hip to pull him into him harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck me,” Dean urged, reveling in each snap of Cas’ hips, each sharp slap of skin against skin that floated up to echo back off the underside of Cas’ wings. As Cas built a hard, fast rhythm, Dean rocked to meet each thrust, longing for the strength and dominance the angel offered. He walked the tightrope-thin line between pleasure and pain until the pain simply melted away and he was left with nothing but the pure, perfect bliss of Cas moving inside him, nailing his prostate and leaving him hard and leaking against his own skin.

Dean dug into the feathers deeper, tugging at them as Cas moaned loudly, his deep, sex-thick voice rumbling against Dean’s neck where he’d buried his head. They were flush against each other, nothing but sweat, Dean’s trapped cock and a few stray feather between them, as close as two people could be. 

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, desperate to get him closer, and Dean’s head fell back as Cas sunk his teeth into the juncture between Dean’s shoulder and neck. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but was more than sufficient to leave a possessive bruise behind and remind Dean once again that Cas was definitely not human. The bite was animalistic, instinctual, a claim laid upon Dean’s body by his mate. 

“Yeah, Cas. Make me yours,” Dean purred in Cas’ ear. “Mark me up. Claim me, baby.”

Cas growled, his teeth clamping down harder, breaking the skin as Dean cried out and came between them, his cum lending itself nicely to the slide of their bodies against one another. 

As Cas pulled away from Dean’s neck, his wings wrapped in tight around them and Cas’ thrusts sped, the sounds of their moans and the slapping of their hips colliding filling the room obscenely as he chased his own release. A few more bruisingly hard thrusts and Cas’ hips stuttered, his mouth hanging open, breath coming out on broken pants as his climax hit him forcefully. He came deep inside of Dean marking him once again as his. 

Cas continued to thrust slowly, milking every drop and riding out every last aftershock of his orgasm as Dean wrapped his legs around his waist and held him close. They kissed lazily, Cas remaining buried inside Dean until long after his cock had gone soft. Finally, they broke apart reluctantly and Cas rolled off of Dean, his wings tucking themselves away effortlessly as he waved a hand to use his mojo to clean up their mess.

“That’s a nice little perk,” Dean laughed, rolling over to cuddle up to Cas’ side. He threw an arm over Cas’ middle, smiling when both of Cas’ arms wrapped around him tightly. This was good. Safe. _Right._

“I’m sorry I bit you,” Cas said cautiously. “It was instinct. It shouldn’t happen again. I can heal y…”

“No,” Dean said, a little too harshly. He pushed himself up on an elbow so he could look into Cas’ eyes. He kissed him softly before continuing. “No, Cas. Don’t you dare heal me. I want it. I want to be yours, and I want every mark, bite and bit of sore ass you left behind. I want to feel you all over me tomorrow.” 

Cas softened at Dean’s words, and wrapped his arms around him once more before pulling a blanket over them. “Anything you want, Dean,” he said, kissing the top of Dean’s head. The phrase was becoming their thing. It was their ‘Okay.’ It was their ‘As you wish.’

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean murmured sleepily, barely containing a yawn.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

As Dean drifted off and started softly snoring, Cas thought about how everything would change now, yet, somehow it would stay the same. They would still fight evil. They would still bicker over stupid things and disappoint each other. They would still stare a little too long to be considered platonic. They would still raise Jack together and they would still live in the bunker. 

Only with more kissing.

And maybe they’d share a room.

They feel asleep that night in their feather lined ‘nest,’ Dean from pure exhaustion and sexual gratification, Cas because he willed his body to. He wanted to. There was nothing he looked forward to more than waking next to Dean on Christmas morning then spending the day with their family, opening presents and eating too much rich food. 

Ok, maybe there was one thing he looked forward too more.

Falling asleep with Dean wrapped around him again tomorrow night, and the next… and the next… for as long as Dean let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have chosen to ignore Castiel's deal with the Empty for this fic. My head canon is that the Empty meant it when it said it wanted Cas to forget about the deal and be truly happy. I feel like that would take years of not only being angel-married to Dean, but defeating all the major supernatural threats and settling into a normal life only to be reminded that evil is actually still out there. And in my head, Cas will be smart enough to give up his grace and become human for Dean so they can live out their lives and share a Heaven, thus thwarting the Empty so the stupid thing can just go the fuck back to sleep.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at a Christmas fic, even if the last chapter got out of hand in length and was posted a touch late. If you're still in the giving spirit, I LOVES me some comments.
> 
> I wish you all a very happy, healthy and prosperous New Year! 
> 
> Coming in 2019: My first attempt at a multi-chapter Destiel AU fic, some more Cockles installments, and for all that is good and holy, I WILL finish my WIPs.


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